


A Laugh a Minute

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Codex Entries (Dragon Age), Epistolary, False Calling, Gen, Inquisitor Anders (Dragon Age), anders week 2019, friendly concern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 15:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21017744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Anders only wanted to see the resolution of the conclave. Now he has a glowing green mark on his hand.





	A Laugh a Minute

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Anders week for the prompt Activism/Headcanons/AU. Inquisitor Anders AU, anyone? Written entirely in codex entries.

_ An excerpt from This Shit is Weird: the Inquisitor Anders story: _

When the Seeker said I would find a “familiar face” in that prisoner from the Conclave, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a reunion with my  _ other _ most wanted friend. I’m surprised the Seeker let him live, honestly. Though, considering how she didn’t jump straight to blaming him, and how there’s a hole in the sky only he can close, I guess she was willing to let a few things slide.

People are calling him the “Herald of Andraste” now. Last thing I would have expected, but people who yesterday would have wanted his head on a pike are now claiming the Maker sent him in our darkest hour. I’d kill to see Choir Boy’s face when he hears.

“This has to be a joke,” says Blondie, and I couldn’t agree more. But at least this is a joke we can laugh at together.

\---

_ A journal entry, rolled up in a tent in Haven: _

This has to be a joke. There’s no other explanation: this is a joke the Maker is playing on me, or some form of retribution from Andraste for all the times I’ve invoked her knickerweasels. Me? The mad apostate who blew up Kirkwall’s Chantry, the Herald of Andraste?

I suppose it makes sense, in a way. I lit the spark, so it’s my responsibility to put out the fire. It just grates my nerves to interact with Chantry people. I don’t know if the “Herald” business makes it better or worse.

One good thing did happen today, though: I met Grand Enchanter Fiona. I’ve wanted to meet her for years, and today, when I visited Val Royeaux to address the clerics (ugh), she came to offer an alliance with the rebel mages. Could this be a chance to support the rebellion firsthand while also patching up that hole in the sky?

I’ll journey to Redcliffe at the first opportunity. But first, I’d like to follow Leliana’s lead on the missing Wardens. The whispering hasn’t gotten any quieter and I’d like to know if I’m the only one hearing it.

_ A scribbled addendum: _

Well, joke’s on me. This “Blackwall” isn’t a Warden at all! Not that I’ll say anything about it to anyone. He’s one of the first people besides Varric to call me anything other than “Herald” or “criminal,” so I at least owe him that secret. But that’s not going to stop me from messing with him.

\---

_ An excerpt from This Shit is Weird: the Inquisitor Anders story: _

I’ve never seen Blondie with another Warden before. Well, other than Nathaniel, but there was history there. As far as I can tell, Blackwall is a complete stranger.

I guess I was expecting more as far as Warden in-jokes go. So far it’s just been a lot of, “do I sense darkspawn? Maybe I’m just hungry.”

Or maybe this is how Wardens normally interact. What do I know?

I wasn’t expecting him to recruit any of the other volunteers, to be honest. He did give me that look when we were talking to the Qunari mercenary leader, the look that says “are you sure I’m not going to regret this?” And a mage loyal to the Chantry was one of the last people I’d expect him to even talk to. Yet, here they both are. I guess you don’t spend six years in Kirkwall and turn away people willing to work with you after that, even if they’re not people you’d ordinarily give the time of day.

Sera, though… she’d fit right in. I can tell Blondie has no regrets about recruiting her.

\---

_ A journal entry, rolled up in a tent in Haven: _

Of course. It just  _ had _ to be a magister.

Cassandra is giving me dirty looks. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Let the mages become Tevinter slaves? I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what she thought, given the way she treats them now. I feel another manifesto coming...

Speaking of which, I don’t know what I expected from Dorian. He cares about his appearance and objects to blood magic, but slavery is better than poverty to him?

I miss my old friends. I’d ask Varric if he’s still in contact with them, but I think he’s deliberately avoiding the subject. I don’t blame him, given our… other company. Still. It would be nice to at least have someone to look at and shake my head whenever anything happens.

\---

_ A letter addressed to Varric Tethras: _

...So, let me get this straight: Anders was at the conclave, he can seal rifts, he’s been made Inquisitor, and the one responsible for the explosion was Corypheus? The same Corypheus we killed in that Warden prison?

I’m coming over there. I have to make sure he’s okay. You remember how it was in the Deep Roads - I can’t let Corypheus twist his mind like that again.

Hawke

\---

_ A mission report addressed to Sister Leliana: _

The Hero of Ferelden made contact; she left a letter to be delivered to the Inquisitor, and another to be delivered privately. She also sent goods from her travels that might be of use. We have included them in this missive.

Yours in service,

Sister Rejeanne

\---

_ A letter to the Inquisitor, stained in the corner with a single tear: _

To His Worship, Inquisitor Anders:

Let me preface this letter with an apology. I’m still not sure who authorized the admission of Rolan into the Warden ranks or who made you give up your cat, but rest assured, had I been around, it would not have happened.

Personal regrets aside, I wish that I had helpful information regarding Corypheus, but due to my own limited training, I know even less of ancient darkspawn lore than you do. I am engaged in a search of my own. As you know, all Grey Wardens who do not fall in battle eventually fall to the Calling, but rather than such foul magic eventually leading to our deaths, I have determined to find a way to negate this Calling and save all Wardens from its effects.

I appreciate your warning regarding Corypheus. Fortunately, my own search has taken me out of the area where the supposed magister is operating, and while I have encountered challenges of my own, they have not involved any weakness related to my Grey Warden abilities.

As I have little useful information to offer, please accept the accompanying gifts instead. If, in my quest, I find anything that may be of use to you in your fight against Corypheus, I will send it to you immediately.

I have also included a note of personal nature for Leliana.

I was not there for the death of Divine Justinia, but I know it will have hurt her terribly. While her wits and her skill are amazing, Leliana’s greatest strength lies in her faith, and to have Justinia die strikes at her very core. I beg you, if she is faltering, help her find her way back into the light.

In closing, I wish you luck. Although we are both Warden mages from the same Circle, I cannot even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you since we last saw each other. Please take care. See if you can use that new influence of yours to get Ser Pounce back. I imagine he misses you nearly as much as I do.

Yours,

Warden-Commander Surana of Ferelden

\---

_ A conversation overheard outside the war room: _

Varric: Has Blondie been feeling any better?

Hawke: He says the nightmares have been getting worse. Having the cat around helps, at least, but we should find the Wardens as soon as possible.

Varric: (Deep sigh.) I still don’t get what’s with your family and Wardens.

Hawke: They saved my father’s life. And this one saved not only my sister but everyone else in that Circle, don’t forget.

\---

_ Overheard in the tavern: _

The whispers are gone. Without the background chatter, the conversation calms - a shouting match in a crowded tavern, taken outside, becomes calm, coherent.


End file.
